GERTRUDE. Yes! [_Looks up._] Kerchival!

KERCHIVAL. Gertrude! [_Hurries across to her, clasps her in his arms.
He suddenly staggers and brings his hand to his breast._

GERTRUDE. Your wound! [_Supporting him as he reels and sinks into
seat._

KERCHIVAL. Wound! I have no wound! You do love me! [_Seizing her
hand._

GERTRUDE. Let me call the Surgeon, Kerchival.

KERCHIVAL. You can be of more service to me than he can. [_Detaining
her. Very heavy sounds of the battle; she starts, listening._] Never
mind that! It's only a battle. You love me!

GERTRUDE. Be quiet, Kerchival, dear. I do love you. I told you so,
when you lay bleeding here, last night. But you could not hear me.
[_At his side, resting her arm about him, stroking his head._] I said
that same thing--to--to--another, more than three years ago. It is
in that letter that General Buckthorn gave you. [KERCHIVAL _starts._]
No--no--you must be very quiet, or I will not say another word. If you
obey me, I will repeat that part of the letter, every word; I know
it by heart, for I read it a dozen times. The letter is from Mrs.
Haverill.

KERCHIVAL. [_Quietly._] Go on.